Carpe Noctem
by darksupernatural
Summary: Backwoods territory in West Virginia holds a secret that catches Sam and Dean off guard. Being tired, and coping with too close quarters and injuries makes it that much worse. And on top of that, something really, really likes Sam.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So this is another one of those stories I started more than a year ago. Just now got around to finishing it recently and to me it reads as rushed as the last ones. Anyway, It's finished. I'll be posting in three chapters as soon as I get a minute to screw my head on straight and bother with the computer. It might help if I have some support, but I'm getting used to radio silence on most parts. There are a few that stick by me no matter what and I don't really understand why I deserve it but I'm grateful. I'm going through a really...really hard time right now and having a few people who care is probably the only thing keeping me from rocketing off the deep end.**

**Don't own them, just hanging them up by their wrists and beating them bloody. Have to apply band-aids and give them back.**

**And if for some reason I miss your review it's because something is twitchy on site and I haven't been receiving any emails. Seriously, it's been like a month and I've gotten 9.  
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**Carpe Noctem **

Fog obscured the early morning sky, turning the burgeoning day gray and dreary. The huge blades of a windmill turned with an unheard _whooshwhooshwhoosh, _the mist swirling around the blades like blood swirls in water. Its position beside the winding, climbing mountain road made it look like the car was flying beside the mammoth creation. The two lane road dipped and turned harshly beneath the tires of the Impala, the rain slicked surface combined with years of wear from heavy tractor-trailer tires eating away at the pavement pulled the heavy bodied car towards the nonexistent shoulder of the road. Dean fought to keep control of the road, riding the brake and grimacing as another big truck came around the blind curves, taking more out of the center lines than Dean was comfortable with.

Sam woke with a start, head smacking off the window as Dean swerved to give the big rig more room on the road, fighting the wheel when the road's edge threatened to pull it from his grasp. "Ow, what the hell?"

"Freakin' trucks, freakin' road…freakin' middle of nowhere West Virginia. That's what the hell!" Dean said irritably, again avoiding a large truck. "Friggin' hillbillies." He grumbled.

"So, where're we headed anyhow?"

"Nowhere. I'm pullin' into whatever town this is and we're staying here. I'm tired of these roads, this weather, damn trucks…"

"Okay man. Let's just find a motel then, get some sleep and move on tomorrow." Sam said, placating his brother and his obvious bad mood.

Dean turned down the first side road he saw, taking more sharp curves until he saw a sign for Davis. Finally seeing no traffic with more than four wheels, he relaxed, taking one hand off the wheel to massage his temple.

_Ah, he's still feelin' that tree._ Sam thought, catching the movement from the corner of his eye. Sam had his own aches, a long bruise right beneath his shoulder blades running the width of his back from a wrought iron railing. Sam had broken the rail when the spirit flung him into it and ironically it was the railing that Sam had swung to keep the spirit from grinding his brother's brain into the tree's bark. They went beneath an overpass for the interstate, Sam's eye catching on the graffiti covered concrete pillars that supported the bridge and road above. It was laden with layer after layer of tags. Scrawled in huge, red, block letters was _Carpe Noctem. _Sam looked back over his shoulder as they passed the tags, watching the pillar vanish into the fog. Other shapes emerged as they entered the small town. It seemed like every lot had several buildings on it. Most consisted of a ramshackle mobile home, a slightly newer, but still shoddy, house,-a double wide or something similar- and a barn with a small enclosed pasture. Sam's eyes took in symbols decorating the barn they passed. The upper windows were shuttered, crosses cut into the boards across the windows like gun slots. A farmer in stained bibs and a greasy looking ball cap was feeding the pigs in his small farmyard. He upended a bucket of something that made Sam's stomach churn into the mud, the pigs clamoring for a spot to get at the vile looking slop. The farmer turned and watched their car go by, the pigs being ignored. His lips parted and he spit tobacco juice at his feet from between teeth that were black with rot. He mock saluted the slow moving car as Sam locked eyes with him. Sam lowered his gaze and took in the slop laying in the mud. Chunks of _something _ mixed with grain and some slimy dark colored liquid made Sam feel sick.

_Dude, what'd you do, chop your kids up and feed 'em to the pigs? _ He thought as they finally passed the farm and left it in their rear view mirror, thankfully.

Dean applied the brakes, turning into a potholed parking lot belonging to the High Country Inn, a rundown motel with peeling stucco walls and rusted door hinges. The word _Country_ in the sign kept blinking on and off, making the Motel the _High Inn _every couple seconds. Sam looked at the sign and grinned. _Nice._ _Another dive._ The engine died and Dean slid from behind the wheel, walking through the door into the motel office. Several minutes later Dean returned, two keys in hand and an odd look on his face.

"What?" Sam said, sliding from his own seat and looking at his brother.

"Redneck hell." Dean said.

"Come again?" Sam asked.

"I just need some sleep."

They walked into the room, stopping at the door when they were greeted with dark walls and rough cut trim, the room in general looking like it had been put together in a backyard hobby shop. The window frames were not quite square, the double pane glass had fog between the layers, the weather strip long decayed.

"Fun. It's a freakin' palace." Dean grumbled, tossing his bag on the floor beside his usual bed. He flopped across the bed, not even bothering to take off his jacket or boots. Sam glanced worriedly at his brother before putting his own bag down and sitting on the lumpy bed. The springs squeaked and Sam rolled his eyes, deciding to make the best of it. He laid back and was asleep before his head sank into the lumpy pillow.

Tuesday morning dawned gray and foggy, a light rain making everything feel and smell mildewed. Sam shivered lightly and cracked his eyes open, seeing again their drab, broken down surroundings. "Dean? You awake?" He said when he heard his brother move.

"Yeah." Dean groaned as he sat up, brushing a hand through disheveled hair and raising his spikes back up. The hand drifted down over his face and he blinked, wiping the sleep from his expression. "Let's blow this popsicle stand and get the hell outta redneck central, before they chop us up and feed us to the pigs." Sam stood from the bed, stretching to work out the tension lodged at the base of his neck. He still felt the bed's lumps against his abused back, the sensation fading to just the ache of a bad night's sleep. Dean snatched up his duffel bag and headed for the door. He was still rubbing sleep from his eyes when he sat the canvas rucksack down beside the tire of the car and went in to turn in their keys. Seeing no one, and ringing the bell with no response, Dean left the keys on the counter, wrote his own check out time in the dog eared, fast food grease stained ledger, and left. Sam had loaded their belongings in the trunk and slid into his seat, already slouched and weary looking. Dean felt much the same and wondered if it wasn't time for a break. Years of wandering the roads across the country, Dean scanned his mental map and picked a route that would get them to slightly better territory by mid-morning and on Bobby's property by the weekend.

Dean slid behind the wheel, sliding the key into the ignition. He looked out the windshield over the front of the car. "The hell?"

"What?" Sam asked.

"Hood's open." Dean said, bolting from his seat and racing toward the front of his car. He triggered the second stage of the hood release and threw back the heavy lid. "Damnit!"

Sam joined him at the front of the car to see the jumble of cut wires from spark plugs and the missing distributor cap. "Someone fucked with m' car!" Dean growled, showing Sam the cut ends of the spark plug wires. Sam took a step back and looked around the front of the car for clues. He found tracks in the mud at the edge of the parking lot. They were ATV tracks surrounded by the prints from custom bike boots.

"How the hell did we not hear that?"

"We're so used to interstate noise from skeevy roadside motels, we probably were tired enough we just ignored it. Bad as that bed was, I didn't even roll over last night."

"Maybe." Dean said. "I'm gonna find the douche that screwed with my car and…."

"Let's just fix it and get outta here." Dean pushed out from under the hood and went to the trunk for the tool kit. He opened the deck lid and cursed again.

"Dean?" Sam circled the car and looked over his brother's tense shoulder. The trunk was in shambles, weapons scattered everywhere, some broken, others missing completely. The tool kit normally kept in the back of the trunk on top of the weapons compartment was gone.

"Someone doesn't want us to leave this town." Sam said.

"Someone wants their ass handed to them." Dean clarified, completely pissed.

"Look, let's just go find an auto parts store and get what we need to fix the car. Then we'll look around, kick some ass, and move on." Sam said, steering Dean away from the car. Dean's shoulder felt rock hard beneath his jacket and Sam's hand. He knew his brother was on the edge of control.

Dean shrugged him off and turned, walking at a brisk pace down the side of the street, towards what passed for the town center. It basically consisted of a convenience store, a dilapidated gas station, several ramshackle houses, and a church that had seen better days, the steeple leaning slightly, paint peeling from the siding. One of the plain windows was boarded over with weather grayed plywood.

Dean shook his head ruefully and he and Sam headed towards the old gas station. The walked through the door, wincing as it actually creaked on its hinges. Dust laden belts, and yellowed packaging hung on hooks on the back wall. An ancient cash register sat disused on the scarred counter. Dean glanced at the hand written price tags, scrawled black numbers on pieces of tape. The merchandise was all outdated, the packaging on some things looking like it would disintegrate if it was touched. Dean whistled and glanced at Sam, mouthing _"redneck hell"_. Sam smiled at his brother, sobering when an employee finally made an appearance from the back of the store, which looked like a small attached garage. The man, in filthy overalls, was wiping his greasy hands on a dirty shop rag.

"Help ya?" He asked, spitting tobacco juice onto the floor behind the counter. Dean's stomach lurched.

"We need spark plug wires and distributor cap for a '67 Chevy, and enough tools to fix it." Dean said. Sam wandered around the store and looked at things, keeping his hands in his jacket pockets. The man looked Dean over as he circled the counter to lean against the front. "Y'know…I can fix that ride for ya, if you don' wanna git yer hands dirty."

"I work on my car. No one else." Dean growled. "Just need the parts."

"Suit yerself." The man said, spitting on the floor again, just inches shy of Dean's boots. Sam watched as Dean clenched his fists, ready to pummel the redneck into the spit puddle on the floor. He made his way to his brother's side and shot Dean a look that said, 'it'll be alright, just get your stuff and we'll go.'

"That'll be sixty three dollars."

"What?" Dean blustered.

"Dean."

"Fine." Dean said, digging in his pocket for his money clip. Dean took the parts, disgust clouding his features at the greasy fingerprints, brittle plastic and dust.

He grabbed Sam by the jacket and yanked him roughly out of the gas station, stalking back towards the motel. "Damn hillbilly! I coulda bought three sets of wires for that price. Probably cut them himself just to get some business in that hellhole!"

"Let's just hope they work and get outta here." Sam said, trying to calm his brother down.

Dean agreed and they walked back down the road toward the Impala. He pulled the wires out of the package, relieved to see that they were intact. "I just wanna get my girl goin' again and ditch this burg."

"Don't disagree with that." Sam said, chuckling. He stopped abruptly when movement closer to the car caught his eye. Three burly hillbillies were leaning against the motel's outer wall, two of them pushing away as Dean and Sam approached. Dean pulled his hand up behind his back, fingers slipping under his jacket to grasp the butt of his Colt.

"Look at that! Pretty boys drivin' a pretty car." They caught sight of the tool kit in Sam's hand and chortled. "Y'know, there's a mechanic down the way there. Save you ruinin yer pretty hands."

"No thanks, guys." Sam said, trying just to edge past the men. They stopped him with a hand on his chest.

"Look, we're just going to fix our car and hit the road. We don't want any trouble."

"What if _we_ do?" The hillbilly said when he slid his hand up Sam's chest to grip his shoulder hard enough for Sam to gasp and drop the tool kit. The man's eyes shimmered, reflecting the light from the bar's neon sign. His mouth opened and sharp teeth descended covering his human ones. The two others jumped Dean, quickly pulling his hand from his gun and pushing him to the ground, punching him until he didn't move. The one digging his fingers into Sam's shoulder gripped harder until Sam dropped to his knees. A well placed boot to the face had Sam joining his brother in oblivion.

Sam came back to consciousness with a start, pounding head raising off the cold, hard surface beneath him. His shoulders burned painfully and when he tried to move his hands he felt something rough bite into his wrists. Full awareness slammed into him and he gasped, twisting to try to see the bindings that held his hands behind his back at his waist. A tearing pain and the familiar flaking off of dried blood on his neck made him grimace.

He jumped when a voice spoke near his ear. "I should drain you dry. You taste. So. Good."

"Go to hell." Sam said, steeling himself against the oily presence of the woman. Her eyes glinted silver, like a cat's eyes, in the moonlight streaming through the small window outside Sam's cage. The pale face and shiny ruby lips framed by thick black hair with blue highlights turned his already rebelling stomach. He laid his head back against the wide plank floor, eyes closing as he swallowed convulsively. He tried to breathe through the nausea only to have his breath cut off harshly as he felt long nails and strong hands grip his hair, pulling his head roughly up off the floor. She sank her teeth into the already tender spot at the side of his neck. Sam felt the pull of her mouth, her throat working as she drank him in. He cried out, eyes scrunching tight, until he felt a strange coldness settle within him, felt himself pale and a heavy weariness slam into him. He sagged in her grip, unable to bring himself to wince as her fingers tightened in his hair, pulling strands loose. His face went slack, the harsh tug on the top of his head as she twisted her fist to make him face her is the only thing that forced him to open his eyes. The only color in his face was high on his cheekbones, leaving him looking pallid.

"I don't like being ignored." She hissed, lips coated in his blood like crimson lipstick. She licked her teeth clean and smirked at him. "How about I drain your brother instead?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Sam ground out, trying to hide his fear and weakness behind bravado as he lifted his head and tried to stare her down.

"Oh, but I think you do. You see, you can't fool me. I know what you are. Hunters. You reek of it. You also smell the same. Your blood. I've savored both of you…but you, you taste different somehow. I'm rather anxious to find out why." She pulled a wicked looking knife with a blackened blade and serrated back. "Maybe I'll gut you and find out what makes you tick." She ran the flat of the blade over his cheek, making chills creep along his flesh at the feel of the cold steel. Chuckling, she raked the blade over his cheek, just bringing blood. She licked it from his cheek, making him grimace in disgust, and then slammed his head into the floor. Blackness took him under. Smirking, she watched him as the moonlight crept behind a cloud. He was slack and still, looking waxen. She found herself thinking of what he would look like as one of them. Putting the knife back in it's sheath, she left the cage. She looked at her second in command, knowing he'd been standing silently in the darkness of the barn the entire time she was interacting with her prisoner.

"Get him some juice. I want him alive. I will behead _anyone_ who touches him. Keep that in mind, Jason." She looked through the bars at her unconscious captive, eyes glinting silvery, her mouth watering at the small smudge of blood beneath his head on the rough concrete. _There's something about you that's…addicting. You'll make such a good toy,_ she thought as she stared at her captive.

Jason looked at Anaya, jealousy making his pointed teeth hurt as they pushed through his gums. He saw her looking at the hunter, the look of longing on her pale features. He vowed that the hunter wouldn't survive to leave that cage. Jason left the room to get the captive his juice. He'd play her game until she tired of the hunter. Then he'd make quick work of the pathetic human.

She sauntered into the room, seeing her other captive raise his head and eye her blearily but defiantly. "So you're the clown leading this three ring circus, huh?" Dean tried, voice coarse as he fought a blood stiffened face to smirk, glaring at the pale skinned, black haired vampire.

"I drained your brother dry." She teased, walking up to and pacing in front of Dean, heels tapping hollowly on the wooden planks of the floor.

He fought the rope that held him fast to the chair, breathing hard. "You're lyin'!"

"He fought, for a second. Until my teeth went deep. Shame, though. I wish I'd have had more time to savor him. You pretty ones, you taste like…" She trailed off, as though searching for words, "fine whiskey."

"I'll kill you!" Dean yelled, fighting the ropes and rattling the chair against the rough hewn floor boards. "I'll take your ugly ass head off your freakin' shoulders!"

The vampire laughed, stopping in front of him. She backhanded him, sending his head whipping to the side. Dean winced, forcing the cry on the tip of his tongue deep down. He groaned as his head bobbed uncontrollably on his shoulders, chin finally laying against his heaving chest as he fought off the spots swimming at the edges of his vision.

"Unh…bitch…" Dean huffed. He spat blood, cheering inwardly as it landed on her boot. He raised his head, having to fight to keep it from falling all the way back. Vibrant, angry green eyes bored into the dark ones of the vampire, the corner of one crinkling involuntarily as blood dripped down the dip below his eyebrow. "I know you got him somewhere…you skanks just can't resist those puppy eyes and shaggy hair."

"Oooh…" She clapped her hands, rubbing the long fingers off each other as she grinned. "You have a brain between those ears of yours. Shame I didn't quite rattle it enough." She clapped her hands and two hulking shadows moved quickly, two male vampires converging on Dean. A beefy fist knocked the breath from his lungs while another snapped his chin back with a vicious uppercut. Dean's world went black and the fists kept flying. Anaya clapped again and the vampires disappeared back into the shadows, leaving a broken hunter tied to the chair in front of her. Blood streaked his face from cuts on his cheekbones, above his eyes. The crimson liquid streamed from his nose, coating his lips and soaking the front of his gray tee. His right eye, although closed, was already purpling and rapidly swelling to the point it would be useless. The blood made Anaya's teeth ache. She reached out with a fingernail and scraped blood from Dean's cheekbone, licking it from her finger. "Mmm-mmm, good." She chuckled and pushed Dean's head to the left, leaving his chin resting against his shoulder.

"Time to play, boys!" She said, grinning at the big vampires as they stepped out of the darkness. They cut the ropes that bound Dean's wrists to the arms of the chair. The hunter slumped and they shoved him back, hauling him to his feet. They dragged him from the room, blood dripping and feet scuffing over the floor.

Sam groaned as he woke up. Gazing blearily at the cage he was in he jumped when a form on the other side of the bars came into focus.

"Pathetic." A deep voice said. "Easy kill." The same voice said a second later.

"Try me." Sam ground out, trying for bravado and coming across pained. Sam struggled to lift his head, his hands, bound tightly with rope behind his back, felt cold and useless, fingers feeling more like half frozen sausages than the long, nimble digits they were. He strained against the rope when the big vampire came out of the darkness and peered at him through the bars as if he were a starving man placed in front of a four course meal. The vampire grinned, a low growl rumbling through his throat as his teeth descended, looking shark like.

"Like the jacket? I killed your brother for it. You know she told me to keep you alive. I wanna tear you apart, drink deeply and put your bloodless heart between the floor and my boot."

Sam smirked, channeling Dean. "I bet she'd hand you your ass if you don't be a good boy, huh?"

The vamp's hand snapped out, grabbing Sam by the neck, digging into the painful, inflamed bite marks. Sam choked as the vampire squeezed and jerked him upright against the bars nearly pulling his shoulders out of their sockets as the rope tying his hands to the floor tightened. Cold rolled steel bit into Sam's cheekbone and spots closed in on the edges of his vision as his body began to scream for oxygen.

"As soon as she tires of her new…plaything, I'll rip you apart. I know what you are, hunter, and I'm gonna enjoy wiping you off the map. Maybe I won't even wait for her to tire of you. Maybe I'll just say you tried to escape." Sam's face was now a startling shade of purple, his eyelids fluttering as they struggled to stay open. Lips parted, blue tinged, Sam fought to remain conscious. The vampire squeezed hard for just a second longer and then dropped Sam, allowing him to land awkwardly on the floor of the cage, pain radiating through his bound arms. He choked and gasped, coughing harshly as chilly air burned down his abused throat. Sam lay helplessly against the cage floor, trying not to pass out.

The vampire pulled a bottle of orange juice from the pocket of his jacket, cracking the seal on the bottle. He dumped the contents over Sam's head, filling his mouth and once again cutting off the breath he needed desperately. His eyes burned and watered as the citric acid attacked the sensitive organs. The wound on his neck felt like it was on fire. Sam spluttered and choked, writhing in the cage as he squirmed to get away from the vampire. The man laughed and shook the last of the juice out of the bottle on Sam's head. Tossing the bottle into the darkened corner of the barn, he turned and strode into the pitch, licking Sam's blood from his fingers.

"Guh-huhhhhh…" Sam struggled to breathe, orange juice dripping from his hair, eyelashes and nose. He turned his head into the wooden floor, trying to find a dry spot as he choked and heaved, clearing his burning lungs. His eyes were on fire, tears streaming from them and he blinked rapidly, using the moisture to clear them.

Jason stiffened, feeling Anaya's presence as she came into the room. He faded into the darkness at her muted growl, knowing he'd tested her temper by abusing the captive. He watched for a second until her eyes fastened on him and shimmered as if there were flames in the reflective, feline depths. He melted away, making himself scarce.

Anaya opened the cage, crouching next to her suffering captive. She watched him squirm for a moment, relishing his pain. Gripping his shoulder, she flipped him onto his back. He groaned as his head hit the floor, sopping, sticky hair flopping across his reddened eyes. "Aww, poor baby." she cooed, brushing his hair back from his eyes. Her fingers brushed over his rapidly bruising throat, coming away with a mixture of orange juice and blood from where Jason's hand had reopened his wound. She tucked her finger between his lips, letting him taste his own blood. He fought to pull his head away.

"Le' me'lone." Sam begged, his voice sounding like he had gravel lodged in his throat. He broke off into a coughing fit. Anaya snapped her long fingers and a lone female vampire, a blond with wild, feral eyes snaked her way out of the darkness. She carried an antique porcelain basin and pitcher and had a washcloth and towel draped over her forearm. Placing it outside the cage, she ducked her head, feeling her queen's hand on her cropped hair.

"Go, my pet. You're hungry." The female growled and lunged into the darkness. A second later a wild scream echoed throughout the barn. Anaya dipped the washcloth in the basin and stroked it over Sam's face, lingering around his burning eyes. "Don't you worry, my beloved, Jason will suffer the consequences for disobedience."

"Go…to….hell." Sam ground out, fighting to turn his head away from her ministrations, failing to beat the lethargy that was slowly consuming him.

Anaya just laughed, the sound cruel and menacing to Sam's ears. "You really have no idea who you're talking to do you? No idea how old I am."

"Wh-what?" Sam said, opening bloodshot eyes to stare at the woman in front of him.

She tossed her dark, wavy hair over her shoulder. "I've seen wars, and plagues. The rise and fall of civilizations. I've watched as time passed, generations of humans turned to dust for well over two thousand years." She ran her hands down her waistline. "And I don't look a day over twenty five!"

"You're an alpha?" Sam questioned, horror making his heart pound so loud he swore he could see her teeth descend.

"Not quite. Try the alpha's lover. Queen of the Vampires. The greatest race in the history of the world."

Sam choked out a brittle laugh again channeling his brother's quirky sarcasm, somehow knowing he'd be punished for it and sort of welcoming it, knowing it would ground his rapidly slipping reality. "Full of yourself much?"

She gripped him by his cheeks, nails digging in, pulling his face up to her own. "You should mind your tongue." She kissed him on his forcibly puckered lips. "Before I bite it off." She said, her mouth still against his.

Sam forced his head out of her grasp, nails scratching his cheeks. "Where's m'brother?" He asked her.

"Oh…he's around here somewhere." She replied.

"Where. Is. He?"

Her hand shot out and clipped Sam across the jaw, whipping his head into the bars just a couple inches away. He saw stars, nausea churning in his gut.

"Uhnn…." Sam groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. He gave up and let the darkness sweeping over him carry him away.

Anaya pouted. "Oops. I keep forgetting you're so…fragile." She leaned over him again, tracing her tongue over the fresh blood that welled from his eyebrow and trickled down over his cheekbone. "I will find out what it is about you that's so enthralling." She whispered, kissing his swollen lips again. She slipped out of the cage that Sam was in and stood, eyes catching the moonlight to shimmer again. She clapped once and two of her minions came instantly into the room.

"I want him placed with his brother. He's not to have another scratch. Understood?"

"Yes, mistress." The burly, dark skinned vampire said. He and a small stature woman with auburn hair untied Sam's bound hands from the floor, leaving them tied together. They dragged him out of the cage and then hoisted him between them, the woman using her immense power to compensate for her lack of height. The two hauled him from the room.

"I want a meeting with the three that originally found the Winchesters in town." she said to the vampire standing silent and invisible in the shadows. Jason stepped forward and nodded once, turning to leave.

**Let me know what you think. I will try to post again next week, provided I'm not sitting in a corner somewhere banging my head off a padded wall.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I'm so sorry it's taken me this long to post again. My life is so screwed to hell right now. I'm just trying to wrap my head around pulling in my next breath. also, for some reason I can't receive your reviews. I know they're there. I think around 20, but I can't find them so I can't respond other than to thank you here. if anyone has any insight into what's wrong I'd appreciate a PM.**

**Enjoy chapter 2 and I will try to post chapter 3 when I get my head wrapped around my life. I'm trying. I promise.  
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**Chapter 2**

"S-sammy?" Dean stammered, his body trembling from where he hung, arms stretched painfully tight above his head, bound hands fastened to a hook hanging from the ceiling. He balanced on his toes, his shirts and boots gone, leaving him wearing nothing but his jeans, the socks on his feet and clammy, sweat and blood streaked skin.

"Nn…" Sam moaned, head lolling on his neck. He was in a similar position to Dean, also stripped down to blood stained skin, jeans and socks.

"C'mon Sammy. Wake up." Dean said between chattering teeth. Sam's head finally lifted and his swollen, dark circled eyes opened. He straightened his head between his stung up arms and had a hard time getting it to stop continuing backwards.

"Agh!" He cried when it pulled at his raw neck.

"Hey." Dean said, getting Sam's attention. "You okay?"

Sam pivoted on his toes, wincing at the pull in his arms, and looked at his brother through one swollen and one blood caked eye. "Dean?" He swallowed to moisten his dry throat. "Thank God." Sam all but whispered. "I guess I'm all still here. What about you?"

"Feel like I've been hit by a truck, but nothing's missing." Dean tried to smile, but the pain in his beaten face turned it into a grimace, his lip splitting open again and a drop of crimson blood rolled down his chin into his stubble. He sobered. "So. Vampires, huh?"

"You've seen a really pale, black haired woman?"

"Uh, yeah. She's the one that seems to be callin' the shots."

"She's the alpha's second, Dean."

"Come again?"

"She said she was the alpha's lover."

"Eewww…So she really is the clown leading this circus."

"Yeah, I guess so."

"So what the hell does she want with us?"

"You're about to find out." Anaya said as she walked into the diffused sunlight that filtered into the room from the high window in the far wall. She stopped and appraised her guests, looking over the twin stacks of sweaty flesh that dangled from hooks in front of her. She stepped up to Dean and ran her fingers up his torso from his navel to his neck. Chills skittered over his flesh from both her clammy hand and sheer disgust. He tried to kick away from her, his shoulders pulling as he lost his precarious balance on his toes. She flicked her wrist and gripped Dean by the throat, squeezing tightly. Dean gasped for breath, choking as her nails dug in.

"STOP!" Sam cried as his brother's face became an awful mottled shade of red/purple. Anaya released Dean and whirled on Sam.

"Ooh, someone has guts." She got in his face, her eyes reflecting the sunlight with an icy silver glint. "How about I expose them for all of us to see." She hooked her fingers and, starting at Sam's collarbones, she raked her talon like nails down his torso, stopping when she clawed grooves in his skin all the way to his waistband.

"Argh!" Sam screamed, chin dropping to his chest as he tried to breathe through the agony.

"Sam!"

"M'okay." Sam breathed, "M'okay." His head fell back as he panted for breath, barely managing to stay on his feet. Dean watched as blood rolled in tiny rivers down over Sam's waistband from the five long gouges in his skin.

Anaya grinned and licked her fingernails clean of Sam's blood. "I still don't know just what makes you taste like fine wine, but I will find out." She patted Sam on the cheek just as he managed to lift his head, causing him to flinch. "Until then, boys, make yourselves comfortable."

"Sure thing. Just fetch us a couple recliners, maybe a thirty pack, a little porn maybe… Oh, and one more thing… GO TO HELL, BITCH!" Dean growled, his voice a little hoarse.

"You just don't learn, do you hunter?"

"Only thing I learned was ways to kill skanks like you." He snarled in reply.

Anaya mock shivered. "I'm just so scared." She reached up and gripped Sam's hair at the back, painfully wrenching his upper body toward her. She plastered her ruby lips to his, grinding until she tasted blood from his re-split lower lip. The pull on his torso from his imprisoned arms had him rasping for breath when she let him go. He felt blood trickle down his chin. "I think I'll just let you two stew in your delicious juices for a while." She reached a finger out to the drop of crimson on Sam's chin and touched it, and sticking the finger between her lips, she sauntered out of the room.

Sam's head bowed as he fought to stay on his toes. His breathing was short and harsh. Dean cast a worried glance at him. "You alright?"

"I'm hurtin', man." Sam said, the words clipped and breathy sounding. "She's, ah…been feeding." Sam spun, attempting to show Dean the wound on his neck, which he felt oozing again from her rough treatment. His knees buckled and pulled hard at his arms.

"She bleed on you?"

"No. More…interested in… playing with me." Sam answered as he struggled to regain his footing.

"Okay." Dean moved himself around in a circle, wincing when his feet wouldn't support him completely. He took in their surroundings, trying to put together an escape plan.

Dean jumped as Sam's knees buckled again and he groaned. "Sammy?" Sam struggled to stand again. "Hey!"

"'M-okay." Sam said, finally locking his knees and managing to regain his balance on his toes.

Dean looked up at his restraints. "That's it, I gotta get you outta here."

Dean pulled down on his arms, trying to loosen the ropes around his wrists. Blood began to trickle down his wrists from the abrasions the coarse twine created. Dean took advantage of the slippery fluid and worked his hands furiously, coating the rope in his own blood. He pulled again and the ropes slid closer to his hands He stretched up and worked some slack into the area where the knot rested in the eye of the hook. A spring mechanism, like a flap, was closed against the tip of the hook, making it impossible to just yank the rope off of the hook. He pushed himself as high as his toes would allow and edged one of the overlapping ropes through the mechanism and over the point on the hook. Dean allowed himself to relax, watching the rope carefully to see if any slack developed. He felt it loosen just slightly as the knot tightened but the loops around his bound wrists actually picked up the slack from the knot. He allowed himself a silent cheer, catching Sam's lolling head out of the corner of his eye.

"You still alright?"

"Yeah…." Sam breathed.

"Okay." Dean said, stretching up on his toes and working at the ropes again. Dean slid the rest of the ropes through the hook and nearly cried out when his pulled shoulders suddenly dropped, almost carrying him to the floor. Dean bit through his tongue to remain quiet as he quickly and quietly searched the room to find something to cut his bindings. He finally found a discarded piece of metal in the corner of the room. Its rusted, sharp edge made short work of the rope and he went back to Sam. "You gotta keep quiet Sam. I know you hurt, but you gotta keep your mouth shut." Dean reached up, ignoring the twinges in his legs and shoulders. He released Sam from the hook, lowering his arms gingerly. Sam stifled a pain filled groan, leaning heavily on Dean.

"Easy, easy." Dean whispered to Sam.

"Gotta sit…down." Sam groaned. His knees buckled. Dean held him up.

"Can't risk it Sam. We gotta get the hell outta here." Dean leaned Sam against the wall, holding a hand against his shoulder until he steadied himself. Dean cut the ropes around Sam's wrists, working circulation back into his fingers. Dean looked his brother over for other injuries, not liking how red the scratches and the wound at Sam's neck were. Dean saw that Sam's neck wound was still oozing. That pissed him off.

Dean leaned closer to Sam and caught his wavering attention. "Hey, I'm gonna go after our stuff, take the head off our hostess and get us the hell outta dodge."

He moved to step away from Sam but stopped when Sam reached for him. "Dean…" The older hunter looked at his brother. "Let's just go…I don't…don't think I can fight." Sam started to sag, his face paling. Dean caught him, a little more roughly than he intended, leaning Sam back against the wall. Dean saw their clothes and boots in a pile in the corner of the room. He grabbed them and quickly slid into his tee, and his boots, not bothering to lace them up. He helped Sam slide his stiffened arms into the sleeves of his flannel shirt, fastening two of the buttons and neglecting the rest. He helped Sam into his boots and steadied him as his knees buckled again.

"Hey!" Dean harshly whispered, "I just need you to keep it together. I'm not gonna do anything stupid. Gonna get you outta here. That's it."

"Okay." Sam whispered. Dean slung Sam's arm over his shoulder and supported his brother's weight, moving as silently as possible out of their prison and towards the closest exit.

"Going somewhere?" A voice asked. Jason stepped out of the shadows. The dark haired vampire was still wearing Dean's leather coat.

"That's mine." Dean growled, gesturing to the jacket.

Jason bared his teeth. "Why don't you take it back then?"

"Oh, I plan to." Dean let Sam move away from him and he took a fighting stance, feet spread, arms relaxed but ready.

Jason laughed. "You think you can take me?" He took the coat off and tossed it carelessly over an exposed water pipe.

At the same time, Dean raised the sharp piece of metal that he had used to cut their ropes.

"He can't but I can." Sam said, catching the vampire's attention from behind him. The vampire's chuckle was cut abruptly short as his head rolled. Sam lowered the bloody machete, watching the body fall to it's knees, then forward. "Found our gear, Dean." Sam said, smiling wanly. He lowered the weapon and it fell from his fingers as a strong arm closed around his neck from behind.

"I should thank you for dispatching him. He's been a pain in my ass for three hundred years."

"LET GO OF HIM, BITCH!" Dean growled, stepping up to face her. Anaya's arm tightened and pain radiated from the wound. Sam felt it begin to seep blood again.

"Mmm-mmm, there's that smell again. There's just something…intoxicating about it. Her teeth descended and she fastened her mouth to the rich blood trickling from Sam's neck, biting deep again.

"Aah!" Sam cried, eyes scrunching tight against the pain. He fastened his large hand around her smaller arm and tried to pull her off. He couldn't break her hold. Sam's face quickly paled, high spots of red on his cheeks the only color Dean saw. Sam's hand loosened on her arm and he struggled to keep on his feet.

Dean lunged for the Colt which he had concealed from Anaya's view when he stepped toward her. It was resting in the dead vampire's waistband. He rolled and brought the gun up smoothly, firing when she lifted her lips form Sam's neck and hissed at him. The bullet burned through her forehead right between her eyes, smoke rising from the black ringed wound. Light flashed though her body, seeming to come from her blood vessels. It flashed in her eyes and she released Sam, falling backwards to the floor. Her body arched as light flashed one more time and then was still.

Sam staggered away from her and slid to his knees, his neck now bleeding profusely. "Sammy!" Dean rushed to him, sliding to his own knees and catching him when he sagged. Dean clamped his hand to the wound. Visions of Cold Oak flashed through Dean's mind, making his stomach churn. "Hey! You stay with me, you hear me?"

Suddenly Dean stiffened, quickly grabbing and raising the bloody machete when he heard a whisper of noise in the darkness. The blond female vampire came out of the darkness, her eyes catching dim light and glinting like a cat's. She held out her hands in surrender.

"I'm not going to hurt you." She said, stopping before she got close. Dean noticed she was careful to stay upwind, and hesitant about approaching them.

"Um…why?"

"Dean…" Sam pleaded, leaning heavier on his brother.

"I don't feed on humans." She said, coming just a step closer, hands still raised. "Anaya killed my little sister in front of me before she turned me. She's kept it over my head for years."

"I heard you. You disappeared and someone screamed." Dean accused, not lowering the weapon an inch.

"That was me."

"Like I believe that."

"Believe it, don't believe it. I'm willing to help you get past the others and get your brother out of here safely."

"Why would you do that for us?" Sam near whispered, Dean steadying him as he wavered on his knees.

"Because I don't want her to succeed in taking another little sibling from his family." She extended her arm and crouched slowly, putting a small plastic case on the floor between herself and Dean. "It's a med kit. Take it and field dress his wound before he bleeds out. We can't risk the others smelling fresh blood." She backed up another step almost involuntarily. "It's almost overpowering."

Dean reached for the med kit, quickly popping it open and rummaging inside. Everything was there, wrapped and sterile. Dean eased Sam back against the wall, his brother nearly limp. Dean's hand slipped in the blood on Sam's skin. Sam grimaced, his eyelids fluttering as he struggled to stay conscious. Dean quickly peeled gauze and clamped it to Sam's wound, feeling it become saturated in seconds. "Damn."

The vampire crouched down where she stood, still moving slowly, barely risking a breath. "I can help." She said, her voice clipped.

"You're not touchin' him!"

"Easy. I meant I can hand you what you need. I'm not going to touch him."

Dean glanced down. "Um…yeah. Sorry."

She began peeling open sterile gauze patches and carefully handed them to Dean, touching nothing but the smallest corner with her fingernails only. Dean laid patch after patch over the blood soaked one beneath it. Finally by the sixth patch, the blood had slowed with Dean's steady pressure. Sam was barely moving, his skin nearly matching the pristine gauze that the vampire handed to him. Jen opened a roll of gauze and handed it to Dean, watching as he wrapped it around his neck, tight enough to hold the gauze in place but not tight enough to strangle his brother.

"What's your name?"

"Jen."

"I think the bleeding is under control for now. Let's get him outta here." Dean stood, his own abuse making him stifle a groan as it abruptly caught up to him. He hauled Sam's jell-o like form up against his own and looped Sam's arm over his shoulders. He felt Sam try to lock his legs and hold his own weight. "It's alright, Sammy. Gonna get you outta here."

"With Jason dead, and Anaya, the others are fledglings, easy pickings. Let me handle them."

"Not gonna stop you. He can't fight, and I'm not lettin' him outta my sight."

Jen led the way, carefully snaking her way through the house. Some of the young vampires were sleeping, some of them had left to hunt. She rounded the bend and smacked into a man who looked about Dean's age. "Whoa, Jen, who-" She cut him off when she ripped his head from his shoulders. His body dropped and she rolled his head off into the darkness. Turning, she motioned Dean forward. Sam slumped a little further and Dean struggled to hold his weight, his sore shoulders and ribs protesting loudly. Sam's eyes now spent more time closed than open and he was shivering, going into shock.

"C'mon, I'll get you out of the house as quick and quiet as possible.."

Dean hefted Sam a little higher, tightening his grip. Sam moaned low, head lolling against his shoulder where it lifted to loop over Dean's shoulders. "Easy Sammy."

Dean stiffened when he heard Jen round the last corner toward the exit and the ensuing scuffle when she tackled another fledgling vampire. Her low growl sounded out and a female's head rolled towards Dean and Sam's feet. Dean shoved it away with the toe of his boot and followed her into the night.

"Go!" she hissed. "They all know she's dead now. They're trying to find you! Hurry!"

Dean steadied Sam, and he felt his brother try to help, to run when Dean started running. Dean took the hint and moved as fast as his brother could move. Within a minute the Impala came into sight. "Thank god."

Dean lowered Sam into the back seat, his brother still fighting to stay conscious. "It's okay Sammy. Gimme two minutes and I'll get us the hell outta here."

Dean quickly scooped the box containing the plug wires off the ground where the hillbilly vampires had left it. Ripping into it, he had the new wires fastened to the plugs and the distributor within minutes.

He slammed the hood and jumped behind the wheel. The engine fired and Dean quickly pulled onto the road, tires squealing in protest. He drove in tense silence until the town was far behind them.

"Dean?" Sam said, his voice a rough whisper.

Dean instantly pulled over and slid from the wheel. He opened the back door, steadying Sam as he slumped. "Easy, easy. You alright?"

"Think it needs cleaned. It's burnin' pretty hateful."

"I wanna get as far away from this hell hole as possible before we stop. Can you stick it out?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, I know it's not the Hilton, but get some sleep."

"Not gonna argue." Sam said, Dean having to strain his ears to hear.

"Hang in there, Sammy." Dean said, worry clouding his eyes. Dean watched Sam lean back against the seat gingerly, his eyes drifting closed, pain pinching deep lines around them.

Dean slid back behind the wheel and pulled out onto the road. When he finally stopped the car, his eyelids were drooping, muscles protesting every movement loudly. His rope burned wrists were screaming beneath his shirt cuffs. He had pulled into the parking lot of a motel made of small, but well kept cottages, each set apart from the other. Dean was looking forward to a private room. He quickly exited the car and made his way to the center cabin, which served as the office. He walked inside and saw a gentle looking old man behind the counter.

"Can I help you, son?"

"Yeah. Wanna rent a room."

"Sure. Just sign the book. You have a credit card?" Dean handed him a card and signed the book to match the name on the card. The clerk ran the card and handed them a key. "It's the last one to the left. Enjoy your stay."

"Thanks." Dean replied, palming the keys and walking back to the car. He moved the Impala to the space in front of the small cabin and shut the engine off. He eased his aching body from the car and opened the back door. "Sam? Hey." Sam stirred and opened tired eyes. "Let's getcha inside. Then I'll grab our crap."

"Okay." Sam mumbled, allowing Dean to help him from the car. Dean looped Sam's arm over his shoulder and they walked slowly inside. Dean lowered Sam to the bed and trudged wearily to the car, retrieving the bare minimum of stuff to get them through the night.

He went back into the room and finally settled in to properly care for his brother's wound. Dean cut the gauze strip that wound around Sam's neck and carefully peeled back the layers. He noticed that the wound was still raw, oozing the smallest of amounts. Sam stirred and his eyes opened, fearful for a split second until he registered the comforting feel of a bed and Dean's hand on his shoulder.

"It's probably gonna be easier if you pass out, Sam."

"I'm not that lucky." Sam ground out, swallowing hard against the gravel tearing at his vocal cords. "Just… do it."

"Okay." Dean said, too tired to argue, and not liking how red the wound was becoming or the fact that that red discoloration was spreading.

"Whiskey or holy water first?"

"Whiskey. Might numb it."

Dean nodded his assent and uncapped the small bottle of whiskey kept in the med kit. He pinched it between his knees while he tucked the towel he grabbed from the bathroom in under Sam's neck. He poured the liquid over the wound, holding Sam's shoulder down as he tried to buck from the bed. The muscles in his shoulders tensed as Sam fought to keep from re-opening the wound. It started to seep more anyway.

"Can't get the damn thing to clot." Dean growled.

"Remember dad's journal saying he thought that vampire saliva was an anticoagulant." Sam made it a statement. "Just clean it good and patch it up."

Dean dabbed the wound dry of the whiskey and then poured holy water over it. The water hissed and bubbled, Sam crying out at the fire streaking through him. He had to move quick to hold Sam down. The youngest Winchester finally went limp, breathing shallow as sweat beaded on his brow. His eyes stayed closed, the lines finally smoothing out.

"Thank god." Dean muttered. He patted the wound dry again and then began to stitch it, using tiny stitches to close the ugly bite marks. An hour later Dean finished and cleaned everything up, including himself, carelessly tending his own scratches. He swallowed four Tylenol with a mouthful of whiskey. Checking that Sam was resting comfortably and out of immediate danger, Dean kicked his boots off and laid down on his bed. He was asleep in seconds.

**A/N: Thanks for reading and I will try to make this right. Please review! I so need to feel better.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:Sorry I've failed to update on a timely manner again. I still don't know what's up with my computer, and frankly don't turn it on these days enough to care. I'm just posting this to get it over with.  
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**Chapter 3**

Dean woke to sunlight cutting a vicious swath across his eyes and a knock at the cabin door. He rolled off the bed, sparing a quick second to see Sam was still out, before he pulled the Colt from its hiding place and went to the door. He looked out the window beside it from a gap in the side of the curtain without touching the filmy material.

He threw open the door, raising the gun on principle. "Thought I wasn't gonna see you again?" He said.

Jen stood on the threshold. She smirked at him. "You really know how to greet someone who saved your ass."

"Don't like vampires invading my personal space."

She looked passed him to the bed. "How's he doing?"

"Is vampire saliva an anticoagulant?" He asked in response.

"Um, yeah." He let her in, but stayed between Sam and the vampire. "Keeps the wound from beginning to heal. Makes it easier for them to feed." She still referred to them as something different from herself.

"You really don't feed?"

"Never."

"Yeah, we met someone like that once."

"And what did you do to her?"

"She asked us to kill her." Dean deadpanned.

"Good. Then you should be a pro."

"Come again?"

"I want you to kill me." Jen said. She nodded at the Colt Dean had lowered to the desk. "With that."

"Why?"

"Because I _never want to feed._" She blinked quickly. "Because I miss my sister. Take your pick." Jen's eyes flitted to Sam as he sat up on the bed.

"Dean." Sam said. "She saved us. We can cure her. We don't have to kill her."

"What?" Jen asked, focusing on Sam. "There's a cure?"

"Yes. Our grandfather told us." Sam said, easing his feet to the floor. "It worked on Dean."

"How does it work? Does it reverse the change?"

"Yes."

Dean stepped in. "We would need some stuff. The blood of the vamp who turned you."

"That's impossible to get." Jen said, shaking her short cropped head rapidly. "I killed him forty years ago. Burned him."

"Then there's no cure." Dean said softly.

"Will you do this, then?" She asked. Dean nodded.

"Sorry." Sam said, blinking moisture from his eyes.

"Don't be. I want to end this my way. I'm happy."

"When?" Dean asked her.

"Um…sunset was my sister's favorite time of day. I'd like that."

"Okay." She turned and melted from the room silently.

"So you're really gonna just do this?" Sam asked Dean after she had gone.

"You heard her. Just like you heard Lenore. She doesn't _want_ to feed. I don't think-hell, _she doesn't think_- she'll be able to resist forever, and that's when some innocent kid gets killed 'cos he took a shortcut home from school. Can you live with that?"

"No." Sam stared at the floor.

"Look," Dean sighed, sitting wearily on the bed opposite Sam. "I'll meet her, and I'll make it painless. She won't have to live like this."

Sam remained quiet as Dean dropped his eyes, staring at the carpet between their feet.

The sun slipped closer to the horizon, bathing the sky in reds, oranges, and purples. Jen turned when she heard the rumble of the sleek black car. Dean killed the engine and stepped from the car, walking up to the vampire.

"Are you sure…"

"Yes. I can't keep living like this, risking every day that I might kill someone." She turned and walked up to the big willow tree that they stood under, leaning a shoulder against the bark. She watched the setting sun through the wispy branches for a few minutes. "I miss my sister, Dean. I just hope that something out there has enough forgiveness for me that I can see her again."

Dean didn't say anything, just walked up beside her, keeping only a couple feet between them. He watched the sun slink lower in the sky, watched the reds deepening to burgundy, the blues and purples beginning to turn inky. He finally spoke. "Thanks for helping me save m'brother."

"I'm glad he's going to be okay."

"Me too."

Jen was silent for another beat as the sun flared and disappeared beneath the horizon. "You have the gun?"

"Yeah." Dean said, the word coming from low in his throat. She turned to him, closing a little of the distance.

"Send me to be with my sister."

"There has to be something else…"

"No, Dean."

"But…" Jen cut him off with a growl and he whipped his eyes in her direction. Her eyes glinted in the setting sun, reflecting fire in the cat-like glow. Her lips parted and her teeth descended. She jumped at him, fingernails hooked into claws. Dean ripped the Colt from his waistband, not getting it raised before she took him to the ground. His head hit hard and he saw stars. Her snarl brought him back to reality.

"Kill me- _before I kill you!_" Her mouth got closer to his neck and Dean wedged the gun between them, firing.

"uhn!" She gasped. Fire flashed through her once as Dean rolled out from under her, catching her and lowering her to the ground. "Thank you." she whispered, lightening arcing beneath her skin again. Her eyes dulled and went closed, one last flash working through her before she stilled.

"Damnit." Dean whispered, blinking unexpected moisture away. He stood, brushing off his jeans. Dean walked to the trunk and popped the lid, reaching in for what he needed.

He returned to Jen and looked at their savior for a second. Then the shovel bit deep into the ground a few feet from her side. He dug a shallow hole, dropping the shovel to the ground when it was finished. He crouched and picked her up, placing her in the hole. He arranged her to look like she was sleeping, her hand covering the hole below her sternum where the bullet entered and careened into her heart.

"I hope you find your sister." Dean murmured. He bent down for the cans of accelerant and salt that sat next to the hole. He sprayed lighter fluid on her clothing. Dean sprinkled salt in the hole and over her body. Then he pulled the matches from his jacket pocket, striking one. He lit the pack and dropped it into the hole. As soon as the fire flared Dean turned away. He moved towards the tree and leaned where Jen had just moments ago. He crossed his ankles and watched as the reds finally faded from the sky, leaving purples and inky blue/black as stars began to wink in the sky.

The sky was decorated with stars, and a crescent moon was just peeking above the trees when he finally felt the heat behind him fade away. He turned and saw the flames were no longer glowing above the edge of the shallow grave. Dean picked up the shovel, not wasting any time in refilling the hole, refusing to look at the remains that were still smoldering. He slowed down as he got down to the last few shovels full, picking through to leave the sod lay. He put the shovel down and picked up the clumps of grass, placing them carefully on top of the ground, filling in the bare soil with grass. In a couple days no one but Dean would know of the shallow grave's existence.

He made sure there was no trace of his activities, before putting his implements back in the trunk. He brushed the dirt off his hands and slid behind the wheel. Firing the engine he glanced in the rear view. The grave site stuck out to him as if lit by neon signs. He pried his eyes away and fired the engine, pulling back onto the road and heading back to his brother.

"Thank you Jen." Dean pulled back into the motel lot a few minutes later and quickly went into their cabin.

Sam met him at the door, beers in hand, passing one of them to Dean. The brothers sat on their respective beds, silent for a moment.

"Ya alright?" Sam asked quietly, taking a pull on his beer.

"Yeah." Dean said, a smile playing briefly at his lips before dying on a sigh. "Get some sleep, Sam. Think we're gonna head west in the morning." Dean tipped the bottle to his lips and drank deeply. Sam sat his empty beer bottle on the end stand and laid back on the bed.

"You did what she wanted Dean. That's all. She wouldn't have wanted innocent blood on her hands. Hers isn't on yours either."

"Yeah." Dean breathed, pulling off his boots and laying back on the bed. His eyes fastened themselves to the window and the sliver of moon that was high in the sky now. "Not on my hands," he breathed more to himself than to Sam.

**The End. Sorry again for the wait. I don't know when the next story will come to me or even if it will. Thanks for reading. **


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